


Okay

by AlexisGreen (thealexmachina)



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Heavy Angst, Survival, lots of feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 17:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15823872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thealexmachina/pseuds/AlexisGreen
Summary: Tumblr prompt fill for BronzeAgeLove, who asked to fluff with “You can sleep here.” I hang my head in shame, there’s a teeny bit of fluff in all that angst, I’m sorry. Hope you like it though. <333





	Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt fill for BronzeAgeLove, who asked to fluff with “You can sleep here.” I hang my head in shame, there’s a teeny bit of fluff in all that angst, I’m sorry. Hope you like it though. <333

“Okay. You can sleep here.”

Exhaustion has long crept into her voice, but she gives up fighting him. He thinks Jane doesn’t see it, the toll her long road to recovery is taking. His wounds have barely healed too; there’s a limp in his step he tries to hide whenever he drags himself away from her bedside. And under the bulk of his civilian suit, she suspects his body’s covered in bandages.

It’s not the physical wounds that worry her though. It’s the harsh tone he uses to reply to his sister when she calls, when he dismisses any of their squad who dares express an ounce of concern for him. No, all care should be directed to her, he argues, equal only to their gratitude. It’s the fingers on her arm, the near-painful grip that means to anchor her to him, afraid she’ll slip away if he’s not there, leaving him behind once again. It’s the full blown panic he flies into whenever he finds her room empty, her bed wheeled off for countless tests in the cavernous hospital. Garrus thinks she hasn’t noticed he’s taken to carrying her tags in his pocket; they’re frequently in his hands though, as he fingers them restlessly, a token rosary from a war they both hope is behind them.

So she lets him keep vigil at her side, even though she knows he wasn’t made for tens of nights in a rickety hospital chair, even though she knows it’s selfish and yet she sleeps better to sound of the low purr in his chest when he finally nods off. She lets him fluff her pillows, more careful than any of the nurses on the ward; she doesn’t encourage him to bribe the makeshift cafeteria staff for orange juice, but she enjoys it nonetheless, artificial taste be damned. And she gives up trying to send him away. 

“Okay, you can sleep here,” she tells him and the fingers on her arm let up a little. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, lovely people.


End file.
